Candles
The candles burn down to stubs, mortal as the young man who lit them

Her face is lit by the dim light of three flickering candles. An elegant silver dress adorns her slim frame, falling around her legs crossed beneath the table that lies between them. Across from her, a young man in a crisp Armani suit sits, hands steepled, sharp icy blue eyes focused intently on the figure in front of him. Her short auburn hair and sharp pointed ears stand out among the rest of her unusual features. The young man had long ago become accustomed to them and now takes them into stride, but sitting alone, in the dim candlelight, everything seems confused and unfamiliar. Aspects of his life, things he has long taken for granted, are thrown into doubt in the arching shadows cast upon the walls of the dining room.

The flickering lights bequeath an environment where nothing is for certain.

As he watches her, she reaches out with a hand, shaking slightly, to grasp her glass situated atop the table. Her arm twitches and sends the glass reeling on its edge. It tips over in slow motion, spilling its contents on Artemis' plate, spoiling the elegant entrée that adorns it.

She winces and gives him a shaky look. He places a pale hand on top of hers. "Don't worry about it," he tells her. "I wasn't hungry anyway."

"Arty," she replies softly. "I can't do it anymore."

Artemis can feel her hand shaking beneath his, the sign that reveals she is teetering on the edge between strength and disaster. He wants to smother her hand, squeezing the life from it because the tremor means she is scared, and he is scared of what that might mean. This was a mistake, he tells himself.

He has never been good at emotional encounters and his clumsy attempt to bridge the awkward moment only makes things worse. Regretfully, the young man removes his hand and it retreats to its spot beneath the table. He suspects that the shadows that grace her beautiful face are not due to the dim light of the flickering candles.

She opens her mouth to speak and he wants to close his eyes and close his mind. But since he cannot do these things he closes his heart, in a feeble attempt to deflect the pain he knows is coming.

The pain of truth.

The candles flicker and momentarily dim before flaring and restoring some light to the room.

"I've tried to tell myself it was possible, but I've kept my eyes shut and blind to the truth for too long. Arty, I can't do it because, I'm an elf and you're…"

A human. There was no getting around it. The young man was only that, human. Cross species marriages were strictly forbidden and frowned upon in both human and fairy society. Artemis tells himself constantly that no amount of happiness he can give Holly would justify the pain of rejection from all the people she called friends. But in his heart he knows he would bear the isolation for the same happiness she could give him. He tells himself that he is weak, unable to see past his childish desires and do the right thing.

"...mortal."

Artemis closes his eyes. This is not what he had been expecting.

"Artemis, I'm an elf and you're mortal. I already can't think of life without you, and if we go through with this I won't be able to handle letting you go when the time comes. I'm so sorry that I'm not stronger."

He pauses to understand what is happening. She is building the wall around herself not because she doesn't love him, but because she does. Because the notion of life without him is so unbearable that the idea of magnifying it is impossible to handle. He does not blame her for her weakness for he does not carry her burden of agelessness. The fall of man is inevitable, it is his blessing and his curse. He is, as she says, mortal.

Understanding yields acceptance. He understands, if not how, where she is coming from and so he understands her. She rises and he does not stop her. At the door she turns her head, a minute degree, but enough to convince the young man that even as she leaves, she does not cease to care for him. She loves him, but she cannot because he is mortal.

In her absence he sits and stares at the light of the candles, three dots of light, pinpoints in the darkness threatening to engulf the room.

He sits for a long time, icy gaze intent on the flickering candles. And as night grows old, the room seems to dim with it. The shadows grow less pronounced as the candles burn down to stubs, mortal as the young man who lit them.

Finally, one by one they go out, fading into the shadows of the falling night and dying, and the room surrenders itself to the darkness.

How long must you wait for me
How long must you pay for me
How long must you wait for me
For me

Please, please, please
Come back and sing to me
Come on and sing it out now
Come on and sing it out to me
Come back and sing to me

In my place, in my place
Were lines that I couldn't change
I was lost

This was my first attempt at something with symbolism. Also it's in the present tense which was kind of weird to write. I kept having to correct myself.

The song is In My Place by Coldplay. One of my favorites and I thought the lyrics fit.

[ /watch?v=yEoHFzEmld0 ]